The Real Lecher Bitch
by Bloody-Asphode11
Summary: I Live for danger and the thrill of Madness, Mad Mala my Mother and Mentor and Sire, taken by a Sir-bastard Jester's games, With the Legacy of the Crow KIng I will rewrite the rules of Anarchy and Purge the Jester's Cantarella I am the Lecher bitch and I got Some Hell to pay Malkavian OC Slightly AU Chapter 2 revised update!
1. Jesters and Jackals

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit, if I did Alucard would kick Caine's ass back to the Big Bang, plus i would be richer than Bill Gates

To all of you hardcore people out there, I tried making a fic in this category and a few hard-core fans decided to become a bunch a TROLLS.

you know who you are... any way to those who enjoy reading a good story i have decided to try again since a plot bunny decided to drop in. I now have the courage to try again and i hope all of you enjoy and review.

suggestions and Ideas welcome, flames shall be used to burn Troll bridges

Now on with the story, which is going to be set in the Game time line of 2004

Obviously some things are going to be different

For one thing NO SCHOOL GIRL! Never did like the costume choices for it 'cept the biker bodysuit one from Chinatown.

Does anyone remember one of the Asylum's clubbers, that ghostly looking girl dressed in all white?

That's MY Malkavian only she has Hannibal Lector's eyes- from the book not the movie, Maroon red eyes; And her hair is 4 inches longer. Also she is wereing a black version of the outfit and Leather rivet pants instead of a skirt.

-Madness insight whispers-

**=Telepathy/**thoughts

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**Chapter 1**

**The Jester and the Jackal**

The Nocturne Theatre had seen better days, the place smelled of mold and rot, and most of the lights were broken or flickering, it was hard to believe the place was actually a landmark. The place was closed indefinitely and people always wondered why it wasn't condemned yet, but no one gives it a second thought when the new one its jazz tunes so dazzling, the Nocturne was nothing, but lifeless compared to it.

So what better place for the dead to meet?

At least that what Clare Convel thought when her paralyzed body was dragged out into the stage before having the freaking stake in her chest ripped out none too gently.

The young woman snarled slightly at the sudden movement and grimaced at the cold air against the wound, what a sight she must be.

Dressed in kick-ass gothic leather bodice and rivet-buckle pants complete with steel plated combat boots and black buckled leather fingerless arm gloves.

In other words what a female assassin and professional thief for hire should look like in modern days.

Clare Convel was always since childhood a strange girl, so strange that she couldn't stay with a foster couple or parent for more than a year. She had abilities that made people think she was a psychic and to those of the religious a devil-child.

Like the time her two bullies of foster brothers tried to beat her up only to find her skin as hard as stone, or when she wanted to be unseen no one noticed her, she was only found when she wanted to be found.

But the thing that made her last foster parents throw her out into the streets was her imaginary friend. After seeing Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Clare loved the idea of talking to snakes.

Her last foster parents did not, apparently discovering her taking a nap in the basement where the floor was literally slithering with wild rattlesnakes along with 30 exotic snakes; the same missing snakes that there neighbor was complaining of missing 4 months ago.

All of the snakes were killed and Clare was abandoned in an alleyway two days later.

'_How ironic that I become a monster worse than I already was'_ thought Clare as her burgundy red eyes peered at the audience before her through a wild curtain of black bangs. Her pallid heart-shaped face showed none of the awe and intrigue at the characters watching her and her sire on the creaky stage. Some looked normal or gang-bangers others had the look of high society, two of them looked monstrously deformed.

But all had one thing in common, is that they were predators with glinting eyes sizing her up. These were real vampires.

"Good evening, my fellow kindred," said a firm, chilling, and eloquent voice followed by footsteps with the smell of polished shoes coming up behind.

The young fledgling found herself looking up at a handsome, blonde vampire of general height in a black Armani business suit. His skin was as pale as alabaster stone with a squared head with cold and calculating silver eyes.

Then Clare felt a sensation similar to the tingle she felt when using what her instincts told her now was Animalism. Only this feeling was like her mind became submerged in cool water and her eyes began to sting. Little did she know her dark claret eyes became glimmering brighter carmine color she learned later on that she was instinctively using Auspex, activating to give feed her curiosity.

The blond CEO now had the make-up from the movie _The Crow_ his suit became a blue and purple and iridescent with deep red and green he had a vicious smirk lined in black paint, whispers told her what the colors meant which made her even more wary his aura smelled of a poison she once used that had a sickly sweet smell: Cantarella.

He also held to her eyes at first sight was a gold scepter with rubies inlaid, but the smell of death and blood on it gave way for what it was; a gilded and bloodstained medieval mace

Clare's eyes were still a luminous blood red as the narrowed slightly; she did NOT like this man.

"My apologies for interrupting any business, or prior engagements you might have had this evening. It's unfortunate that the affair that gathers us tonight is a troubling one." As the haughty vampire spoke, he paced across the stage, putting on an air of supreme importance.

"We are here because the laws that bind our society, the laws that are the fabric of our existence…" He paused, gaudily.

Clare rolled his eyes behind the jester's back, at his grand little show, while a soothing and resigned calm suddenly flooded her from her sire, who ironically was her partner in the criminal underworld for 2 and a half years now until this night. She also sense amusement or interest from the vampires that caught her expression.

**=Hush my little Romani, mask your face before the Jester-prince sees and you will survive this night=**

One of the members of the audience, a black vampire who like his companions with he shared the scent of gunpowder and spice of hatred, also had a wild beastly musk mixed with pine and cedar underneath; he was whispering into the ear of his companion. The chide could barely make out what he was saying in the silence.

"Little pompous bitch, what's he doing?"

Clare immediately liked him

"…have been broken." The Jester finished; in a overdone thespian fashion.

"As prince of this city, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring; many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed _some_ of these requests. However, the accused that sits before you tonight was not denied permission."

Clare's dark red eyes widen as she looked to her sire Mala, a redhead woman with long untamed hair pulled into a braid her long oval face sad, bitter resolution reflected in her dark green eyes.

"Indeed, my permission was never sought at all." The Jester-prince paused to let his words sink in.

"They were caught shortly after the embrace of this childe." He said, gesturing dramatically towards Clare who looked out over the audience, saw that they were all staring at her with unreadable and measuring gazes at her, putting her on the spot. It was strange, she felt no real fear only annoyance as she stilled herself and stare unblinkingly back, knowing that showing fear to undead predators was a very bad idea.

As the Jester began speaking again his aura smelled of lavender, He twisted his face into an expression of remorse, but the jester image she could see was snickering with glee.

"It pains me to announce the sentence, as up to tonight I considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization. But as some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression," he paused, looking down as though in regret, "is death."

Clare Convel felt freezing cold when those words hit her ears; a stirring animalistic feeling grew inside of her as the last. Mala was a fun and slightly reckless woman with bright red hair and lime green eyes, she was Clare's mentor and partner. Clare Convel was raised by the streets and had a career by it, by 15 years old she was a professional thief and mercenary for hire by 24 she was one of the well respected and well feared in the business even taking a few hit contracts on the side. She met the strange woman known as "Mad Mala Margay" who only worked at night who can honestly claim to be a modern ninja and a genius hacker. Mala had taken young Clare under her wing as a partner and apprentice to the Shinobi way of life as well as hacking codes.

But what Clare cherished and Loved about Mala was the fact she could "see" her reality and was able to interact with Nero and Sly Cooper (who when she was shit-faced drunk she dragged out of the T.V. while playing the game of Sly Cooper 2 and devoured him - really you _are_ what you _eat_ and Clare wanted to be a master thief... disturbingly curious after that that same game disk never was playable after that). With Mala, Clare felt she belonged, she didn't feel out of place, hell she began to call her Mother Mala and was happy for those two and a half years.

But then Last Night... the shit hit the fan when the target had hired very good bodyguards and a buckshot to the stomach left her memory hazy, now that she thought about it that shot should've killed her in less than seven minutes the clearest thing she could remember was stareing into suddenly while blacking out...

Were lime green eyes.

Clare bowed her head so her long untamed raven hair hid the loathing in her deep red eyes, she was sure that others could scent her black spicy hatred for the Jester come off in waves, The Jester was going to kill Mother Mala for saving her

Looking up seriously at the audience, the bastard C.E.O. intoned,

"Know that I am no more adjudicator, than I am servant to the law that governs us all. Let tonight's proceedings serve as a reminder to our community, that we must adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood."

Just as he finished that sentence, Clare felt her sire again and snapped her head toward Mala.

**=Listen well my childe, I am Sire by embrace but your Sire of blood has the answers to questions you carry from life, follow the Ravens, little trickster to their Master, The Crow King they shall guide=**

The smug bastard leaned down, next to Mother Mala whose head was held low, an unfathomable sorrow and burning wrath in her eyes as she stared at the Jester. With a dramatic gesture, he asked her, "Forgive me."

Only Clare could see the thin smile on his face. Mala returned it with hard stare.

Clare barely kept the snarl off her face as she glared daggers at the laughing Jester.

He stood up. Solemnly, he proclaimed, "Let the penalty commence."

He stepped forward and a few feet away. Clare stared at Mala wanting so much for Mala to escape or rip off that princy's head but the animalistic stirring before compelled to keep still for if she moved to saved her sire's unlife she would end her own.

Mala gave her fledgling a ghost of a smile and a soft mental caress.

**=Do not fear, My Childe, My Legacy and save your wrath, you will became a queen in this game of Jyhad in time, stand strong and use your tricks and what I taught you, remember my words from before _follow the crows_=**

The fledgling saw, on the other side of her Sire, a giant, ugly vampire, at least 7 feet tall. He lifted an enormous sword, a foot wide, 5 feet long, covered in strange symbols up to her neck. He raised the sword. Clare did not turn away or close her eyes wanting to engrain this forever in her mind

**=Embrace the night, Clare Convel, your journey now begins=**

The sword fell.

The sickening sound of flesh and bone being severed echoed in the silence of the theater

Her head fell from her body, roll on the floor next to Clare who stared at it with no expression outward, ruby eyes met glassy, dull green for the last time before both head and body burst into cinder and ash.

Clare looked up at the giant, at his callous, and leathery face, and his solid red eyes. His Aura was strong and purple mixed with light blue colors; powerful and destructive, with that sword in hand, but Clare studied him and made sure to never to forget him. The young vampire looked up at him with depths of hate with vermillion eyes, the emotion was so strong that she knew her aura was pure black to those who could see it. He either didn't see or didn't react probably thought she was next anyway.

As though in answer to Clare's thoughts, the Jester in the suit announced to the audience,

"Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny."

Clare swore she would take one of these Cantarella smelling fools with her if they decided to off with her head, though strangely again no real fear, for she heard the bones of the reaper walk away

"Without a sire," the prince continued, "most Childer are doomed to walk the Earth, never knowing their place, their responsibility, and most importantly, the laws they must obey."

=_And the blame falls to who that Mother Mala's dead, you hungry Fool? These eyes can through your veil and your words are drenched with poison. Just hurry up and get it over with=._

"Therefore, I have decided that-"

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

Clare looked quickly into the crowd and looked down, and saw the vampire the black guy had been whispering to earlier.

He looked Hispanic, though he spoke perfect English without an accent. He had a night black goatee, tanned skin, and piercing light blue eyes that stared pure hostile defiance at this "prince."

He contrasted sharply with his opponent – where the Prince was all perfectly pressed luxury and order, every blonde hair settled into place, this vampire was rough in every way, wearing simple blue jeans and a t-shirt that barely contained his mass of muscles. He was a tough blue-collar man, and he was not interested in bowing down to the likes of the Jester-prince in his snooty suit. He was leaning forward, baring his fangs at the Prince, while restrained by a redheaded girl in a beret. They all looked out of place, wearing casual clothes instead of the professional gear everyone else had on.

The Prince, to his credit, was seemingly unaffected, staring disdainfully down at the challenger like a bug. He was the only one who took it all in stride, though. Clare gave a happy and vindicated smile, as she watched various members of the audience began conversing loudly, obviously agitated, with some getting up as though to start a riot.

After an extended pause, the Prince spoke, irritated. "If mister Rodriguez would let me finish, I have decided," he announced, becoming dramatic again, "to let this Kindred live."

The words took a moment to soak in. and when they did Clare hunched forward in relief as the restraints fell from her wrists,

"They shall be instructed in the ways of our kind, and be granted the same rights."

The fledgling looked up; saw the prince gesturing towards me with one hand, an expression of gentle magnanimity on his face. But Clare returned no expression but caution on her pallid face. She slid her now wine-colored eyes to the guy who stood up to the jester-prince, Rodriguez, narrowed his eyes at the prince in suspicious hostility.

=I am apart of a deadly game… is this the Jyhad?= question Clare in her mind staring between the two

"Let no one say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community," He said, adopting hurt tone. Then he was all business. "I thank you all for attending these proceedings. And I hope their significance is not lost. Good evening."

Clare eyes narrowed slightly at that as the kindred began to empty the theater, she followed the Jester-Prince and his beastly Dog backstage.

The prince began walking towards stage left, and gestured for Clare to follow. After looking up quickly at the Dog, she warily obeyed. The Dog walked behind her, way to close for comfort. He stopped when the vampires reached the edge of the stage, and just stood there. Clare was slightly relieved, she was too weak now but she had made her decision, as soon as she has the ability and opportunity the Jester's Dog was getting euthanized. Then the Jester turned to her and addressed her.

"Your sire – tragic." His face and voice seemed to express real remorse, but She knew better, seen that thin smile right before Mala was killed…

"But you see, there is a strict code of conduct which we all must…" he paused, considering his words, "…must adhere to if we wish to survive."

He turned, walking away from Clare and gesturing for here to follow. He continued to lecture here as they walked.

"When someone, anyone, breaks these laws, they undermine the well-worn fabric of our centuries-old society. Understand my predicament."

_=I smell Cantarella and Mother Mala's blood on your gilded club, Jester; sing your tune, fervent fool I'll dance to it for now=_

"Allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behavior. So… what I am offering is _not_ generosity, but," he searched for the right words, "the opportunity to _transcend_ the fate woven by your sire." Clare had to fight the urge to deck his well-groomed head.

They reached the end of the hallway, and he stopped at a door, turning to face me. Gesturing towards the door, an apathetic cold look in his silver eyes.

"This is your trial. You will be brought to Santa Monica.", he said, "There, you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor"

_=My labor,=_ The new vampire mercenary sneered inwardly. =_So I became a serf for the Jester, very well then. I shall be a pawn__, but when I become a queen its off you're your head=_

Bitter and hateful as she was though, Clare was also resigned it would be a long time before she could get that powerful.

The Jester showed a little of his disdain of dealing with something he felt was a waste of time, proclaimed, "I've shown you great clemency. Prove it was more than a wasted gesture, fledgling. Don't come back until you do. Good evening."

With that, he opened the door, and Clare stepped out into the night.

The door click shut behind Clare who stood there silently for five full seconds, and then the deeper emotions that were suppressed by survival instincts gushed forth from an ache in her chest flooded her completely.

Grief. Terror. Relief. Rage. Hatred. Clare bit her arm to keep from howling useless despair, she vaguely noticed that her teeth were stilly abnormally sharp if not sharper like they were in mortal life. The pain made it easier to steady herself back or in a Malkavian's case closer to present reality

Suddenly the voice of Nero hissed in her thoughts, the sound of of the Black Mamba's slithering and the ghostly feel of his scales coiling around her pallid neck.

Nero was one of her favorite snakes at the time she was abandoned, and couldn't bear to have him taken away from her so in an act that defies logic and her hated Fosters she devoured and swallowed Nero.

Ever since then Nero's hissing voice was in her head.

**-He'ssss watching, hatchling, an old one waitssss for usss a sssly laughing Jackal-**

Clare slowly walked out in the open, red eyes seeing the old one leading on the wall.

He definitely didn't look the way Clare envisioned a vampire, although he certainly looked tough as hell. A huge, dark beard and long, matted hair framed a laughing and boorish face. With his open denim vest and torn jeans, he looked like he'd fit right in with some Hell's Angels. He leaned against the building, casually smoking a cigar.

Clare felt the tingle again and smelled Gunpowder, rum and saltwater and smoke, lots of smoke come from him, Clare blinked and saw a jackal made from smoke laying one the old one's shoulders black pits for eyes and a laughing grin that matched the man he represented.

With a hoot, he began to speak.

"What a scene, man! Hoo-wee! And they just plop you out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that? Look, kiddo. This is probably a lot for you to take in, so, uh, why don't you let me show you the ropes? Whaddaya say?"

Clare stared at the vampire, at his smoky, elusive aura filled with the minty scent of curiosity; his manifest Jackal perked its grinning head at her sniffing.

The Jackal wanted something.

"A Poisonous Jester, Now a Laughing Jackal? Whose words hold more cost to Clarify?"

The old one's black eyes blinked in surprise before again laughing with unhidden humor.

"What? Oh, man, and you're a goddamned Malkavian too? Wow, you really are fucked."

Clare didn't know if that was a statement or an insult.

"And who is this Laughing Jackal I see before me?" asked Clare slightly annoyed.

The vampire gave a smirk before replying.

"Heheh Kiddo, you already know it with the insight of yours, it's pretty strong too for a newbie baby chick like you." The Jackal said, with a grin. "I'm Jack and what's important is I'm offering help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, okay? 'Till then, I got about this much time," gestured the Jackal looking at Clare with a semi-serious look.

"You in or out?"

Clare immediately saw the Jackal's game, The old one was testing her, as he smelled like gunpowder like the others from the audience, he was no ally of the Jester-prince who now commands her.

He was sizing her up, seeing if there was any potential…. an transparent game of Show and Tell with the hint of cloak and dagger.

Clare smiled widely at the Jackal nodding her head fast like a child, so much that she became a bit dizzy.

"Alright, now, we ain't got much time, but I figure SOMEBODY should fill you in on the bare bones stuff at least. Could save your hide…" He suddenly inspected her a little more acutely. "You look wobbly. You even had a drink yet?"

Clare tilted her head at the Jackal

"What beverage do you babble?" responded the mad chide.

Jack's Face lit up with unholy glee.

"Oh man, we're popping a cherry here! Ah, you're gonna love this. Alright, check it out. _Blood – _it's your new rack of lamb, your new champagne… blood's your new fuckin' heroin kid! Get ready though, cause, heh, it's never as sweet as the first time."

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Smiling Jack waltz in grinning like a maniac, it seem that the old Brujah was going to skip around with joy, most of the anarchs in the dive of a bar didn't think too much of it since the recent Sabbat raid just an hour ago happened and most concluded he was working of a high caused by ripping them a new one. Most except Nines, whose sharp steely blue eyes narrowed at the anticipation gleaming off of Jack's black eyes.

"Jack, what are grinning about now, the way you're acting something caught your attention and it wasn't just a pack of Sabbat chew-toys," inquired Nines as Jack came near the foot of the stairs where Nines and Skeltor were standing. Jack chuckled at his wary tone.

"I got to say Paper-boy, you stuck gold tonight, Princy has no idea what a time-bomb he has on his hands," stated Jack as he howled with course laughter.

It took a moment before the Angel-town Baron caught on, "You mean the new kid from the theater?"

Jack grinned again showing all of his teeth.

"That kid has spunk, and damn good insight even for a Malkavian, she called me a Laughing Jackal before I even introduced myself and was able to see that I was there to observe her potential, called it show and tell." The Brujah reached into his scruffy denim jeans reaching for a cigar while he chuckled amusedly at the memory.

"Lacroix plopped her ass outside basically a step away being a clueless caitiff to wait for a ride to Santa Monica for some Cammy errand, so I offered to show her the basics of her new unlife, in fact thanks to that raid i was able to see what the girl could do," explained Jack lighting his cuban cigar.

By now all of the Anarchs were listening wondering just what about the new gopher of the Prince could do to catch their idol's attention so.

Nines leaned his back against the wall eyes half-closed as he thought back to that leather-clad gothic woman stringy black hair framing deep maroon eyes that gleamed with something curious. Nines suppressed a shudder, unlike most who believe Malks are retarded Lunatics he knew Madness was an evil innocence, He lived during the Great Depression and saw many of its methods.

If the newbie's Insight was strong enough to impress Jack even though she was only hours old...

"Turn's out this mad chick already has a rep: The Cheshire Cat is one of the up-and-coming talents in the underworld, heh heeheh. A freelance Solider of Fortune that specializes in stealthy operations, the main three, are stealing, spying and sabotage-"

"Sounds more like a sewer rat than a Malk from what I'm hearing," interrupted Skeltor, the Vietnam vet gangrel with an eyebrow raised.

Jack gave the paranoid man a dark sideways glance, black eyes predatory and amused.

"A Nosferatu do it as their purpose in unlife, she just does it for the adrenaline rush, The fledgling asked if she can go back home quick and get her '_shiny_' collection, i told her old life is probably being liquidated as we speak by the Camarilla, hehe boy she DID NOT like that," chuckled Jackal eyes gleaming.

"What was her collection?" asked Damsel.

"Remember that heist back in '97? The one that used concentrated laughing gas to incapacitate the Blackwell Jewelry Auction house and half the city block?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Yep that was her, Turns out she's worse than a dragon when it comes to hoarding only selling things on Ebay when she needs money fast otherwise the girl has a freaking treasure trove worth over five million, I told her the Camarilla just got new funding she frenzied in anger and tore apart the next sorry S.O.B.'s of a sabbat pack cursing the Jester-prince and his thieving Cantarella pawns. Damn I wish I could eat popcorn the newbie's a fucking riot Hahahahahaha," said Jack as he roared with guffawing laughter.

"... Cantarella?" asked Nines in a speculative tone.

Jack gave the group his most aggressive grin yet.

"That girl's Late sire must have been of a 7th or 6th generation because this fledgeling's Malkavian insight is unnaturally strong, When she told me that I burst out laughing, took me awhile to control myself. Cantarella is an ancient sweet-smelling poison infamously used by the House of Borgia known as the Original crime family to many, both mortal and immortal in fact I've met a venture named Cesare Borgia back when I was I believe and that bastard was more of a snake then Sebby here will ever be,"

Jack paused as he took another hit of his Cigar while the other three watched him.

"Cantarella is what she calls the Camarilla."

Nines had to crack a grin at that. "No wonder you're so happy a pissed off malkavian who hates the Cam she's now "employed" to as much as we do,"

"You got it paper-boy but there's something bothering me, Malks use Auspex, Obfuscate, and Dementation without being taught but this one used a fourth," tipped off Jack his face going serious for once.

"What's the catch?" asked Skeltor.

"after she frenzied the surviving shovel-head broke his arm when she blocked with hers- she used the Armor of the Kings, a high level power of Fortitude that can only be taught, I told her this and asked where the hell she learned it... found out something quite shocking," said Jack

"Apparently her Sire Mother Mala gave her some parting words before her head was lopped off, to find a Kindred who is her Sire by Blood, to follow the Ravens to their Master known she called the Crow King... Now I know Malk talk is sometimes bullshit, but she has been using fortitude since she was ten and she remembers a man who taught her how to use the Armor of Kings, A black-haired sly looking, wiry build who wears a leather old duster coat and an earring made from a crow's feather... ring any bells?"

Skeltor and Damsel looked at the old pirate confused but Nines who was far older then them felt his rugged jaw drop.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"A kine who is able to use a kindred discipline means that they are a ghoul or the offspring of one, the SIRE by BLOOD part is able to see in that perspective," continued Jack after seeing Nines catch on, while Damsel finally had enough of being in the dark.

"So you're fucking saying that this girl when she was alive was a Revenant? Don't the Sabbat breed those things?"

"There was one vampire who came from Chicago in the 80's after the Anarch Free State came to be, he didn't say what he was from and had a male ghoul and blood-bound revenant woman with him and the bitch was fucking pregnant!... Shit I can't believe I forgot about that fucker," swore Nines as he began to pace around the bar like an agitated wolf.

"So what was so bad about this guy, Nines?" asked Damsel warily but curious.

Nines Rodriguez's silver-steel eyes look sideways at his brethren, while Jack had a knowing smile on his face, smoke from his cigar haloing his scraggly hair.

"Knowing about Sabbat customs, we didn't trust the guy, specially when it became obvious he was a damn Ravnos, told him we won't tolerate a long stay here since he kept his business to himself. The guy had a sly but laid-back demeanor, wore a leather victorian age duster coat and a black feather earring hanging from his right ear. What's more our ghouls reported huge murders of crows that flew around the city constantly sometimes kindred saw these creepy-ass birds at night."

Nines began pacing faster as he recounted the experience.

"After a two years of avoiding most Anarchs, the guy left without a trace, the body of his male ghoul drained and floating near Long Beach, the revenant Woman was left behind, given to a... A Hermit of anarch society a... A MALKAVIAN HOLY SHIT HER DAMN SIRE!" shouted Nines as everything thing clicked.

Dead silence permeated the dive as everyone stared at their leader until someone asked,

"So why is this so alarming again guys?"

Smiling Jack scoffed a snort at that question before replying at that stupid question.

"Put the damn puzzle together kiddies, That woman was a Revenant born of Ravnos blood, she had a bun in the oven when she came her with her master a little over twenty years ago, same age as the newbie we've been talking about numb-nuts," Jack gave them all a bared grin as eyes began to widen around the room. "meaning this Fledgling before she was turned was a second generation Ravnos Revenant that was embraced by a possible low generation Malkavian, this girls creation was someone's plan!"

"..."

"Oh and since Mother Mala told her to find her blood sire, it means that this Crow King's coming to Los Angeles soon, what's his game, don't know shit but something tells me that Newbie Clare Convel is going to be one Hell of a Linchpin."

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and that is chapter one REVIEW PLEASE

but as said before flames will be used to burn bridges.


	2. Menagerie of Ghouls

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the World of Darkness. That honor goes to White Wolf Inc.

I am going to expand the Cities of the game in order for more realistic like have not all the key location packed together in one city block. Its okay for the game but not for a novel-like story, so if you hear a pet store or a bar that wasn't in the game, its still in real city limits.

Using map quest I changed things around, for example the fictional cliff that has Denis and the Astrolite now exists as part of the Pacific Palisades but still on the beach.

Basically new things are added to the mix and everything is switched around, so just a heads up for readers.

The Asylum, Gallery Noir, and Tattoo Parlor will be on the famous 3rd Street for example.

Mercurio's Apartments is the Embassy Hotel Apartments that is right across from the hospital that will be the clinic in this story.

The Astrolite cliff will be in the Pacific Palisades park on the beach.

_**Madness/voices/sudden knowledge**_

_Thoughts/Telepathy_

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**Chapter 2**

**Menagerie of Ghouls**

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The smell of putrid two-week old pizza on the grimy counter that bordered area of resembled a kitchen for an apartment. The place was a mess, the refrigerator door was barley closed, its hinges were in a rusting race with the rotting wood cupboard doors, one lost as it clattered to the chipped tile as Clare touched it to examine it.

The sad thing was the kitchen out of this… room was the cleanest part. The carpet smelled of more bodily fluids and illegal chemicals than the crappy-stained mattress, which had no sheets and a pillow that was filled with bedbugs.

She went to see the bathroom corner walking over a pile of plywood boards, hammer, and nails, which she assumed was for the windows that made up most of the opposite wall. Said windows looked so filthy that they could block out the sun with the years worth of dirt that smothered the glass. But she wouldn't place her newly undead hide on that bet, as the Jackal described what the Sun can do, she rather not play poker with fate just yet…

The smell of fungus and mold covered the shower's tile which didn't even have a shower curtain, the only upsides was a few leftover items from the last tenant that was suckered into this cesspool, A watch and a pill bottle could give her about $25.00.

The scowl on her face was more murderous by the second, even Nero was hissing angrily, Sly's disgust powered her own, the ringtail was growling made Clare vaguely wonder if becoming a vampire was like giving the ringtail thief in her head rabies…

The T.V. set was old, barely a step away from becoming an antique with dented rabbit ears for antenna. The only thing that was shiny new was a laptop sitting on a tarnished metal office desk.

Clare felt a flash of a image pulled from her mind by her inner thief Sly, a memory of the time she had to live in a dumpster for a week. She felt a emotion of longing and disgust.

Since the time she was shitfaced drunk and hallucinating… or maybe it was something else now that she thought about it since she didn't use drugs that night, but the Thief-for-Hire remembered that she stuck her hand into the T.V. while playing Sly Cooper 2 grabbed the Master raccoon Thief in her fist and dragged him out and than swallowed him whole before passing out.

The next day she woke up with a heavy hangover, the smell of smoke coming from her stolen PS2, agonizing buzzing of white-noise from the T.V. and Nero making it worse with angry hisses about the new "tenant" who only the cobra could hear, but Clare could feel impressions and emotions from the ringtail.

Sly Cooper was PISSED for months, but by now had adapted well enough to his new existence.

Right now he was expressing that he would rather live in that dumpster than in this stink pit.

The fledgling nodded in agreement her narrowed burgundy eyes flashing carmine in irritation at her so-called "Haven" her new boss gave her. The madwoman went to the desk and picked up the yellow note that was laid on the desk. The minute gloveletted hands touched the paper Clare got the image of a man with a strong jaw, and greased back brown hair slightly framing a chalky face with a roman nose wearing a cheap suit, than the image faded but left a thick scent of blood and pain.

Clare blinked Carmine eyes than read the note warily.

_Hey. The password for your computer is 'sunrise'. Keep the cash in the drawer… it's yours. I dropped you an email with my address… come on over after you get settled._

_-Mercurio_

Clare tilted her head as she read the note once again before crumpling the note than throwing it over her shoulder carelessly. So that man is the Mercury, the Herald of Thieves? Why the smell of blood and pain?

There was another note, or a calling card, she felt Sly's interest stir at the sight of it telling her it was an expensive brand of stationary, but what had her caution was the smell coming from it, Cantarella. What really surprised her was the strength of the stench; the card REEKED of the sickly sweet poison more so than it had upon the Jester-prince. Clare's maroon eyes became luminously scarlet again as she felt the tingle again. The Malkavian blinked and the card was glowing slightly.

_**=Auras… Fragrances of souls they are, unique eyes can smell them youngling, taste the knowledge can you?=**_

Clare hissed and crouched like a startled cat, her messy black hair whipping around her head as she looked for the hidden speaker. At first she thought it was Yoda from Star-Wars, but then if he was he was freaking higher than a kite.

_Nero, Sly, did Yoda visit my head?_

_No Hatchling, that voicccessssssssssss came from the cobweb, one of many__,_

Clare felt a sting with her eyes and suddenly felt… furry, seems that Sly drag her eyes to see his perspective. She saw a ruined city covered in mist and jungle with blood red trees growing from the ground that was made from shifting shadows; the sky was blue and purple with twilight. The sky was filling though with strange root-like clouds, clouds filled with thousands of voices and whispers, threads were falling and floating than sticking and stretching.

These string shaped clouds were webs spilling from the sky, spider-like webs made from cryptic murmurs and puzzling babble tangling into her mind. A slithering sound came from the side of her and than Nero came into view, the huge black mamba rose hissing from the ground his eyes glowing white.

_When Mother Mala held you in her Embraccccssssse, the ssssstars began sssspinning thesssssse threadsssss like they were sspiderssssss, and it has been growing ssssssince_

Clare blinked and then staggered as she found herself back into her crappy apartment, the young Malkavian shook herself as she stared at the card again, the Cantarella-thing that triggered her fit.

_The voice came from the cobwebssssss_

Clare's ruby eyes glared at the calling card the light coming of it was light dark blue blending with light blue, a feeling of suspicion? but… calm, not threatened… Not the whole mixture, something else here… spots of desire, of Deep red peppering the Blues.

Spots of desire mixed with wariness makes… Curiosity.

Some one was curious of her, someone powerful and filled with poison, Clare picked up and opened the card.

_At your connivance, please come and visit me in my home downtown. I leave you this to guide you:_

"_Dark Blood, Our Curse, a light this verse"_

"_Such Power I sense in one so Young"_

"_Come find me where burns the mystical sun."_

_ , Tremere Regent_

"Tremere Regent… A wizard-king?" whispered Clare as she sniffed the card, catching a strange spicy scent underneath the Cantarella; Blood, strange-smelling blood. Clare would rather kiss this stank floor than to go to this meeting but the smell told her while the Wizard-King swam depths in Cantarella he smelled more strongly than the Jester did, perhaps she has an ally against Prince Sirbastard.

Folding the Wizard-King's invitation smaller to fit her back pocket, putting it to the back of her shattered mind for now. She typed sunrise and skimmed her email.

Speak of the devil, a reminder of her new obligation as a gopher from the Jester himself; she could see the snobbish sneer on his face.

Nest was a spam about male enhancement… lost cause in so many cases she was sure.

The next email made her giggle and smile like a child, So Arthur still in the business and in the Lady-By-The-Sea no less! Clare wondered if her bounty-hunting license would still work, or did the Cantarella erased it… she hoped not it was fun! She wondered also if Arthur would even remember her after all, they met a decade ago in San Francisco when she was still a novice in her way of life.

Finally the message from the fleet-footed Mercury

_Hey. Welcome to town. Come on over to my place once you get situated, and we'll talk about what you'll need to get the job done. I'm going to pick up explosives right now, some Astrolite... I should be back by the time you come over. I'm at 24 Main Street, in number 4. Walk to the end of the alley and my building is the next one on the right. _

_-M_

"…Fucking ASTROLITE!" shouted Clare but unlike normal people (or Kindred) it wasn't a shout of fear but excitement. Before this night she was a respected professional bounty hunter and Mercenary-Thief known as The Cheshire Cat. Growing- no, surviving up in the streets like she did she learned to take any enjoyment out of life and when her life has death around every corner…

In short simple terms, Clare Convel is a vicious Thrill-seeker.

'_Well now, Jester-prince if this is just a test for this one, than I shall thank you for the fun when I lopped of your head'_, thought Clare gleefully as the giggling vampire.

The last email was rather… strange, but understandable.

_A game begins. A Pawn is moved_

Clare just grinned at the screen, " yes, and this pawn will win this game!"

Then the leather-clad Malkavian literally skip down the stairs grinning like the maniac she was, it has been a few years since she got to play with boom-boom.

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Mercurio knew there was something wrong the minute he met that Scarface-wannabe asshole at the pick-up, but nooo, he ignored his gut thinking he can take whatever shit the cocky fool pulls.

Which came in the form of his addict goons beating his sorry ass with baseball bats then leaving him for dead. It was a humbling experience for the ghoul to literally crawl like an insect to the back to the safety of his place and his couch. He just thanked whatever was looking out for his hide that no cops saw his bleeding ass.

The New-Yorker ghoul desperately tried to keep himself from moving his twisted bone fractured body as he tried to rest and ignore the pain when he heard his apartment door open.

Who the hell was that?

"Those mothers…Ripped me off…I'm dying here!" started Mercurio hoping beyond hope that death wasn't the visitor as he tried to explain his sorry state. With brutal effort the man lifted himself up and looked up to see…

A vampire woman with long, wavy, and wild black hair that fell four inches past supple shoulders with a long messy fringe of bangs that framed and slightly hid her oval face with a sharp triangular chin. She had Gothic black leather corset top held her to shape by metal buckles, the type you see on straightjackets. Her arms were lithe with black leather gloves that covered the forearms but not the fingers. Her leather pants looked as though she somehow got into Halle Berry's costume wardrobe and stole a pair of Catwoman's pants. Her outfit was complete by with a pair of knee-high combat boots that had hidden knives in both of them; Mercurio vaguely wondered where she got those because who ever made them knew what he was doing.

But really sent a cold chill up his bruised spine was her eyes and maniac grin, the grin didn't hide her fangs which tipped him off, but what scared him was her claret wine red eyes the had a very wrong glint to them as they curiously peered at him through shadowed eyes.

The battered ghoul had the feeling of looking in the eyes of a rabid wolf who couldn't decide weather he was a chew toy or not.

"Are you the fleet-footed god?" asked the woman in soft purring voice fit for a leopard... right before it pounced.

"Unnghh. Mercurio, if that's what you mean. Ah, shit…you're Malkavian aren't you? Damn it, that's the last thing I need. I'm bleeding all over the carpet, and I can't even understand what the hell you're saying…" cursed out the wounded man as a wave of pain made him flinch.

_She must be the one he was supposed to meet and it's a fucking bloodthirsty lunatic with fangs, tonight is not my damn night_, thought Mercurio.

The vampire put her hands behind her back and abruptly bowed down to stared into his swollen face staring inches from him with a childish gleam to those unnerving burgundy red eyes.

"You need only to open your eyes." Said the grinning madwoman as she stood straight again but her hands still behind her back like a solider does. "Now, tell this one your tale."

"I got…I went… What the hell is this lump?" That was NOT there before, wait a second. "Is it my rib?! Holy shit, is my rib poking through my side? I'm all numb… you gotta look and tell me!" panicked Mercurio. The vampire just rolled her blood maroon eyes at him before quipping at him with a fanged smirk,

"You are a silly dying man."

The anger at the sassy answer was refreshing and helped numb the pain more, it also numbed his common sense in hindsight.

"I'm lyin' here bleedin' to death and you're crackin' wise? I don't need this crap."

Those creepy eyes went to slights and the grin an aggressive leer that had the New Yorker mentally backpedalling. When you look like hamburger meat on a silver platter you don't poke at a rabid predator that's alone in the room with you.

"You should heed my wisdom," quietly hissed out said predator. "Because I am a fool-killer."

"Alright, alright! Geez! You'd think you were the one layin' here with his guts hangin' out. It was that freakin' chemist! Guy mixes up speed, his crew sells it. Occasionally, he does explosives. I set a up a drop." Snapped out Mercurio in haste as the Malk watches him with wild wide eyes and tilting in a fascinated demeanor.

"I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of these guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks- hit me with a bat!" Mercurio felt his brain at that moment decided to remind him of its own complaints, the pain making him bend down over the side of the couch for a few seconds. He really needed a new one if he survived this.

"Uggh, Head feels like I got a friggin' horse kickin' it," he moaned. From the slight nod he got from his undead listener his face probably looked like it too.

"I never shoulda gone alone… Amateur move," gritted out Mercurio in self-disgust as he shifted a bit to a less painful position. "Shoulda handled those pricks. Goddamn dirty Cali-rat bastards!"

Another nod of agreement he hazily noticed.

"Those cocksuckers- beat me rotten, left me for a stiff. I had to crawl to my car, crawl my ass up here, the vamp blood's the only thing holdin' me together. But shit they got the money they got the Astrolite…" Mercurio began to panic as he began to realize the penalties the minute the Boss hears of how he FUBAR'd this.

The gothic Malk blinked her dark red eyes slowly as she before asking curiously,

"Of what blood does Mercury speak of?"

Mercurio was lost for a second out of his panic then it clicked; this Malkavian was a fledgling, the one involved in the tug-of-war between Lacroix and Nines in downtown. Hell, from what he heard this kid was only hours old!

"Right, you're straight off the bus. Once a month I get fed vampire blood, heals me faster, makes me stronger than a normal human. I don't age. By lookin' at me, you wouldn't realize it, but I'm almost sixty."

Mercurio to his credit didn't flinch as the fledgling abruptly squat down to his level and stare the ghoul in the eye, he made whatever that was left of his expression into a poker face as the maroon eyes flared into a glimmering scarlet; swirling luminous pools of fresh blood draining into a pitch-black pits in place of pupils that stared _through_ him.

The analyzing gleam told him that she was probably satisfying her curiosity by using Auspex, but damn that's the first time he'd seen someone's eyes glow using it!

Wide scarlet eyes faded into half-lidded slits of darker red hiding whatever gears still turned in those creepy eyes as they stared at him. Then, as if she didn't do any scary ass shit, she lean her chin into her hand with a sassy smirk again on her lips.

"You would think your brain might be a bit bigger after so much sand has fallen."

Mercurio decided to be irritated; irritation is a hell of a lot better than fear.

"Hold on- you think I'm some amateur? I got their number. Those small-time sons of bitches live out in a dump on the beach. Maybe four or five of 'em, the one that got the explosives is Denis. Got my money too that prick," snapped out the man as he tried to again shift to a better position but pain had turned to agony at the movement.

She only gave him an amused grin as she leaned in again.

"Tell this one where her feet must travel." Mercurio blinked.

"Layin' in a pool of my own blood and you want friggin' directions," sighed out Mercurio grudgingly. "Right, okay- Down the street, past the clinic on the right, all the way to the Pacific Palisades park… on the right… should be the Cliff with metal gate and stairs… Those better not be some of my last words," muttered the man after at the last part, wincing at another wave of stinging pain.

The fledgling jumped up eagerly and stood saying, "Mercury is not so fleet, so Clare must be in his stead?"

Mercurio remembered the shit he was in and was a little ashamed latter on of how scared he had acted, but pride's nothing to the power of self-preservation.

"You gotta'… gotta' get it back from 'em. Maybe reason with 'em; maybe break in… I wanna' kill 'em. Do what ever you people do. I blew it, I know," growled out Mercurio.

"This Clare Convel will get her boom-boom and your gold, Mercury," reassured the now named Malkavian giving the beaten man on the couch an exaggerated bow her face glinting aggressively bright in her carmine eyes and smile.

That smile for once gave Mercurio dark satisfaction instead of fear. It told him that that two-faced bastard Denis and his buddies weren't gonna see the sunrise.

Now he just has to make sure he sees it.

"Unh…one more thing; about the deal, I mean it…you tell anyone about this and I'm dead. I'm beggin' you. I got a way of getting people what they need. You don't say anything; I can help you out from info to… _toys_ you don't usually get on even the black market."

He had her on toys from the insane wild grin and wine eyes that flashed to ruby hellfire with unholy glee. Her voice became tripled as if two other people spoke with her own with equal sinister joy.

"_**Y**_o**U**_**R**_** w**_O_**R**D_**S **__W_**i**l_L_ b**E **_We__**I**_G_h_**e**_**D,**_ **M**_**E**_r**C**_Ur__**Y." **_

"(O…O)"

Then Clare shook her head like a feral dog with a trace of annoyance crossing her pallid face. "Your flesh's screams are so loud, Can this one do something about it?"

To save his sanity from breaking he latched on to the offer. "Yeah, if you could…unhhh… ah, something just started leaking," rasped out Mercurio as he arched in anguish. "I need something for the pain!"

Clare gave him a freaky, motherly smile before turning around and literally skipping away while calling back,

"I shall return with some numbness, avoid the Reaper's call, Mercury!"

Mercurio listen to her skip out and waited for the door to close behind him before collapsing, exhausted on the blood-soaked couch.

"Ungh…. Fuckin' Malkavians."

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The damp night air smelled cleaner of salt as Clare step out of Mercury's abode, telling the sky would cry soon... will it be from sadness or shall it be tears of wrath?

Tears of blood was more her style anyway... Now to find some numb-juice for the fleet-footed god. Clare grinned as she walked to the Clinic across from her side of the street as she thought about her conversation with the beaten man, so kindred blood holds many powers it seems.

Her Aussy-eye found pale gray veins thick and thin were woven through out Mercury's Aura like a parasite than transmuting what it took it into his physical body apparently changing it... interesting. Not only that but the gray veins had taken root at his core drinking directly of its source but at the same time the energy it drinks is also burning it away.

What was left of the "vamp blood" was literally slowly burning its self away trying to keep poor Mercury together... very curious.

"Hey, How's it going girl?"

Clare turned toward the eager voice and saw... **_A bloodhound puppy, _**his tail wagging eagerly and nose twitching, than Clare blinked and a young brunette, fairly tall man stood before her, his appearance would fit a high school jock dropout in a leather jacket and dirty jeans. his ears seemed strangely bat-like and his eye color a sickly lemon yellow. a smell of glee wafted from his violet eager aura with strong blending flares of green and... what's this?

Just like Mercury, this little hound had webs of veins woven into his aura and string-thick parasitic roots ensnaring the soul core but unlike Mercury these veins were pulsating and black with the scent of oil.

Suddenly a sudden compulsion that shot from the depths of her gripped her voice.

**"Have you seen the Golden Hunter?"**

The young fool's face lit up and Clare decided she needs to have a talk with those new voices in her head... if she could find a way to do so.

She felt Sly laugh in her bones, no doubt telling her good luck with that.

"Aw MAN! W-Wait, say that again!" asked the golden fool in excitement, Clare saw his tail wag faster with joy... she's the one supposedly crazy right?

"That wasn't me. it was one of the other voices in my head." explained Clare with irritation, hoping that brute honesty would drive the puppy-man away.

It did not.

"Aw Man! You- You're a Vampire aren't you?!"

Cantarella tyranny already lost Mother Mala's head, she will not let a loudmouth hound sound a hunt for hers!

Her voice was a low growling hiss and carmine eyes glimmered to slits at the golden fool. "Your words can summon the Reaper, do you wish to hear His rattling bones?"

Instead of backing off in defensive fear, the fool only began to sulk and pout and retort in a very whiny voice.

"Hey I work for a vampire!" Ah... so he is of Mercury's kind. "I don't know how much i should tell you tell you- oh man, damn! - it would be awesome to talk to someone else "on the inside" know what i mean? eheheh, oh man!"

"..." this is a vampire's tool or a fool's fluke?... she decided to mess- no test him.

"Awesome are the magic monkey bars in my head." said Clare with a china doll's poker face.

"Aw, damn! You're talkin' all this crazy shit!" the eager fool's yellowish eyes flashed with something fools' DON'T have which made the fledgling raise an eyebrow. "Aw. man! I bet that means your a Malkavian, huh? I know a little about you guys. Your head's all, like, messed up, right? Like Hannibal Lecter crazy..." the human-creature now leaned a little forward, a bit recklessly in hindsight and peered at Clare's face, who eyed the young man with a calculating red stare.

"Holy shit, Aw MAN! you even got the Doc's hannibal's eyes! AWESOME!"

That last sentence made the madwoman reevaluate this one before her. from a just a fool. it also made her understand her bloodhound puppy vibe she got from first impression. he only seemed q fool due to his childish personality and eager energy but even a puppy has its breed's instincts.

A Bloodhound is a hunting dog that has a single-minded focus once it catches the scent and it does not attack its prey, it just leads its master where it is... besides only those who read those thick novels know the true eye color of Hannibal Lecter, Anthony Hopkins eyes are blue Not the good doctor's...

_**=Ssssuch eagernesssss to pleassssse, give thissss hound a treat and ssssurely piecesssss of your puzzle will come falling from hissss lipsss,** **hatchling**=_ hissed Nero's voice that made Clare give said puppy hound a cunning grin.

"This is a secret little whisper that we will share, Golden one."

"Hell yeah! I knew it, I knew you were. I could just tell. Then i saw your teeth and i was like "hell Yeah!" Damn it it was like I could just sense you. The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you"

A pleasure really? she couldn't tell.

"Are you also night's child?" asked the maniac.

"I'm a ghoul. I didn't know about any of this stuff until a couple of months ago when this guy just appeared and all of a sudden- BAM! Whoa man- Vampires are real and right there in front of my eyes. Blew my goddamn mind."

Clare was twirling a ragged lock of black hair with a finger as she processed the excited gibberish until something clicked.

"Ghoulish is as ghoulish...wait what is a ghoul?" Clare thought out loud. Knox answered her as if she asked.

"Well the way it was explained to me, whenever a vampire let's a human drink some of their vampire blood, the human gains a little vampire power and that kind of stuff. Geez, oh man! then they're a ghoul and ooh, watch out."

Clare's shattered mind was whirling at the information and she thought back to Mercury o the couch several minutes before...

_'...Once a month I get fed vampire blood, heals me faster, makes me stronger than a normal human...'_

'_why only once a moon this one wonder_s' thought Clare, tilted her head like the curious Cheshire Cat she was.

"What creature spawned you, Golden Ghoul?" asked the Malkavian childe with vermillion bright with Auspex watching his reaction. the "vamp blood" strings of black oil-slick veins wrapped around Knox's core _squeezed_ for a quick second.

"Aaaw, man, I really wish i could tell ya, but I don't think I'm supposed to. But it's really cool to be talkin' to you, just well... because I don't get a lot of chances to talk to vampires- oh man- well other than my master, so I thought I'd just say, what's up, ya know?"

Clare tilted her head in thought again. 'So his Master... the blood he gives to golden one also demands his loyalty yet... this devotion is different to Mercury who smells of contract than of chains... hmmm.'

"Are you a happy Golden Ghoul?" asked Clare.

"It's AWESOME," yelp out the golden bloodhound all most jumping like an excited Pomeranian. "Man after that first taste of vampire blood... it's like the best drug. Aw man, I tellin' ya, it's like... only it didn't mess me up, just made me feel like I was better at everything. I felt like a god, just suckin' on that nasty dudes wrist."

The malkavian blinked. Nasty Dude?

"What makes your life move today, Golden bloodhound?"

Knox actually seemed to pause and _think_ as though she said something that hit a nerve before his default dopy expression came back.

_**=Beware he who plays a fool lest you ****become the real fool=**_

"Look, I probably shouldn't tell you this but i'm on a "secret mission" for my master. Well, hey it's been great talking to you man, but i better be going - important stuff to do, ya know."

Clare watched the golden ghoul trot away down the street then into an alley whistling a gleeful tune as she mused over what she had just learned. Sly's suspicious emotions flooded her along with the mental image of a fishing hook. Bait had been thrown in water where blood has spilled, however the blood in the water did not come from her... this Nasty Dude, must be desperate to find aid if he sent his bloodhound to scout out a newborn kindred.

These ghouls... are far different than normal mortals when she compared the two under her aussy-eye. In fact a ghoul answer to a problem of hers, the key to quicken her revenge on the Jester. During that little raid four hours ago in Downtown L.A. she, in a way to describe it, almost devoured a mortal's living soul... and it almost gave the lunatic fledgling final death.

Humans in her simplest way to explain them are... raw eggs. The shell the earthly flesh body, the whites- a thick mixture of intense energies melded in blood and aura the yoke- the bright potent core eternally emitting power, the soul. vampires can only usually suck out the whites, said whites that is produced from the yoke as excess anchor the soul to the living realm. Clare saw this earlier that night while feeding on the cowardly night guard that was hiding in a basement from the Sabbat. with her "Third eye" making the vibrant yoke visible, Clare greedily tried to "reach" and "pluck" the night guard's soul then trying to swallow it through his blood... she only got a sip.

She concluded as she dizzily got her feet, more hyper than a child's sugar high from that one reckless taste. But Clare's attempt to suck out his soul through blood thrown a wrench violently into his spiritual system and made it malfunction.

Unlike real eggs, Souls are well... alive and the minute the man felt her in whatever way what she was doing he instinctively rebelled, gave a pseudo solar flare that killed him, his body was charred black as his own energy fried him inside out, but at least he was able to escape to the afterlife than have his existence devoured.

Ghouls however seemed infected... the vampire blood semi-mixing into their blood, roots of kindred essence weaving parasitically into the host aura and netting and planting itself into the yoke-core, thus having a direct feeding tap of the soul itself, the kindred blood merges withe the mortal's veins and flesh absorbing the "whites", the excess energy and converting it to a form that empowers an undead body. that energy mostly unused in a living body besides the transmutation process into a ghoul's...

The malkavian was sure that the secret to sucking eggs was through ghouls... from within her demented mind, the master thief Sly Cooper burst out in hysterical guffawing laughter that erupted from within through Clare's throat at that last thought causing people in the clinic she just entered to stare at her warily... they would offer help or ask what the hell was wrong with her, but to do so would receive the attention of the gothic rivet-head leather-clad pale woman who looked to be a bit rabid...

Smart mortals decided to let it run its course.

Clare was still giggling with deep thoughts of her Ghoul-egg conundrum, strange burgundy eyes half-lidded as her mental wheels turned as she walked through the waiting area, so she gave a startled cougar hiss as a crisp, snide voice of the receptionist nurse addressed her.

"Please wait your turn and you'll be seen." Clare's eyes gleamed from dark burgundy into venetian red with her anger.

"Yo**U **wI**L_l_** S**E**e m_e_** b_E_**_y_oN**D **s**I**_G_h**t!**" growled out the madwoman. The nurse blinked her mortal eyes actually flaring red before going back to a dull brown.

"All right go on back," she replied in a monotoned clipped voice.

Unfazed at her instinctive use of Dementation, Clare began walking by until she heard it... the rattle of dry, brittle, and cold bones. the Reaper smells a soul nearing His threshold and is seeking the poor mortal. Curiously, Clare went and opened the door where she heard the ominous noise.

Laying on a padded gurney was a young girl, barley out of high school, her weak leaking aura was white with naive innocence, a true little lamb. she looked to be two inches shorter than Clare, with blue old navy jean and a yellow tang-top on a thin pale body with demure arms. the little morsel had deep fire-red hair that reached small shoulders. tearful verdant green eyes glazed with pain and sorrow peered unseeingly out of big 80's black-rim glasses.

Really such a will-o-wisp of a thing.

Clare stared at the moaning young woman for about a minute before beginning to grin like a clever cat.

Experiment of egg-sucking: test subject number one found.


End file.
